Wandering Desert
by Irene14
Summary: Adam was shot by Apaches, they couldn't reach water, and he barely pulls through at the end. What happened after the bullet was removed? Told mostly from Adam's POV, "Honor of Cochise" s3e3. Rated T to be safe, injured party, violence alluded to, recovery of injury. Probably could be rated K, but I don't want to rate wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Adam had kept low and moved carefully from shadow to shadow. Finally, he was within striking distance of the water when a shot sounded and something struck him hard in the left side. He fell, momentarily blacking out.

Strong, lithe arms were holding him as he was jostled with a running man's gait. Shots sounded close and far, then the familiar boom of his father's rifle rang out several times.

Suddenly, Pa was there beside him. Joe and Hoss too. Angry words were being spoken, the Captain wanted to fight Cochise, and Joe responded, ". . .why should any of us die just to save that man's skin?"

No Joe! The law must be upheld, we have to try and bring peace! Adam tried to speak, but no intelligible words came out. A low groan reached his ears, and Pa was there, trying to speak to him.

* * *

Briefly, Adam's eyes opened, and Ben leaned forward eagerly. "Adam?" he said.

Adam's brow furrowed in confusion and pain, his eyes unfocused. For a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to speak, then his eyes slid shut and he lay still.

* * *

Joe watched helplessly as Adam continued to worsen throughout the day. Taking his turn at his brother's side, he did his best to remain calm and gentle even though a strong fear was gnawing at his stomach. He prayed his brother could hold out just a little longer.

* * *

Red tendrils of pain radiated from his side. Adam clamped his left arm close to his body and stumbled forward, the empty canteen gripped in his other hand. The camp shouldn't be that far away, yet it seemed as if the land had opened up and swallowed it whole. He turned to fill the canteen only to find no water behind him. Was he imagining it? There was water here a moment ago. He scanned the area. . .there! Quickly, he scrambled towards the water, falling to his knees next to it only to see a faded skull branded into a piece of wood nearby. Dipping two fingers in the water, he let a few drops fall on his tongue and promptly spit them out. Alkali. Adam rocked back on his heels, wiping a shaky hand across his sweaty brow, taking a moment to gather his strength. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and saw a butte not too far away. Surely there would be water near the rocks, perhaps a hidden spring. Taking a deep breath, Adam focused on the rocky cliff and began to move forward.

* * *

The setting sun brought cool relief to the men. Tension remained heavy in the air, with barely two words having been spoken between them since the disastrous attempt to end things peacefully. Johnson remained smug, convinced he was right.

Adam had grown more still while his fever continued to climb. Scarcely a sound had come from his lips, and he no longer opened his eyes. Ben and his youngest were crouched next to Adam when Hoss stepped up to speak with Johnson.

* * *

Abruptly, Adam found himself wandering through dried scrub brush and tall cactus. He had to find water! The wound in his side had stopped bleeding, thankfully, yet he didn't know how it got there. Seeing a rock in the moonlight, he sat down and studied the terrain. A strange glow emanated from the horizon, even though the sun had fully set. What was it? A light breeze brought the pungent odor of charred wood to his nostrils and before he could form a clear thought, Adam was running towards the dry wash to escape the deadly blaze.

Adrenaline surged as he ran, his legs pumping systematically to carry him away from the killer wildfire. His breath burned in his lungs, sharp pains tore at his side, then he was sliding down the hillside. Hitting a large rock, Adam began to tumble uncontrollably down the steep slope as the fire licked at his hands and back. Smoke threatened to choke him and he landed in a heap in the wash.

Try as he might, Adam could not catch his breath nor could he move while the fire roared, encircling him in a cocoon of searing heat. Adam's back arched and he cried out as the flames engulfed him.

* * *

Joe's heart wrenched with his brother's pain-filled groan. Hoss had stopped talking, now crouched next to Adam while Ben gently wiped his eldest's sweaty brow.

Joe knew something _had_ to be done. He turned to his father. "Are you sure you don't want to make a try for the bullet?"

Ben looked sharply at his youngest. "I told you it's too deep!"

"If you don't try for the bullet, he's going to die anyway!" Hazel eyes flashed, showing Joe's raw anger and worry for his brother.

Ben studied his son, then saw the identical concern etched in Hoss's face. He knew they were right. Pausing a moment, Ben's mouth set in a line and he stood, picking up his rifle and instructing the two to stay in the camp.

As expected, both objected, but Ben sternly overruled them. Johnson tried to prevent him from leaving, but Hoss's heavy hit allowed Ben to slip away, his last piece of advice being for his sons to continue to defend Johnson, and say some prayers for Adam. Then he was gone, swallowed up in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Heat waves shimmered, making the horizon bend and ripple. Adam knew he needed to get up, to find shelter but his body would not obey his commands. The flat desert stretched for miles around, but suddenly there appeared a cactus nearby with a small sliver of shade available.

Adam's fingers dug into the sand. Desperately he began to drag his injured body forward, foot by foot, across the grainy earth.

He looked up when shade fell across him, and the cactus was no longer there. A tall fence pole with barbed wire wrapped around the top stood in its place. While Adam lay on his back trying to contemplate this, a strong wind blew and the sky was filled with clouds. A loud clap of thunder sounded, and abruptly rain began to fall. Adam opened his mouth allowing the cool life-giving water to slide down his parched throat.

* * *

Joe knew his father would not lie to him. Quickly, he walked to the water to fill the one canteen allowed by Cochise. Taking a mouthful of water for himself, he strode back to the camp, acutely aware of the hidden sentries around him.

Handing the canteen to Hoss, he carefully slid an arm under his brother's head, lifting him up while Hoss unstoppered the canteen. Johnson rushed forward but with a mighty shove from Hoss, he fell to the ground.

Joe briefly noticed his brother's skin was hot and almost dry to the touch as Hoss brought the canteen to Adam's lips. Joe gently pushed Adam's mouth open and the older Cartwright coughed when the precious liquid trickled into his mouth. Hoss pulled the canteen back, waiting for Adam to swallow. After the third offering of water, Adam's body responded on its own, allowing him to drink long and deep from the canteen.

"Adam, that's enough for now," Joe said, pushing Hoss's hand away. "You can have more in a little bit." Joe turned to Hoss. "You better have some of that too."

"Joe, I can't. Adam needs it more than I do. Besides, Pa should be back soon." Hoss put the strap around his neck, effectively keeping the water away from Johnson.

Now all they could do was wait and hope.

* * *

The rest of the night passed quietly. Hoss, keeping the water away from Johnson, refused to take even a mouthful for himself. At regular intervals, he and Joe helped Adam to drink. Even though Adam was unconscious, his body provided for itself what was needed and by sunrise, the canteen was nearly empty.

Daylight brought relief to the camp. A thunder of hooves was heard, and moments later, an army Doctor scrambled over the rocks.

"I' m Doctor Fletcher. We need to get water boiled immediately and I'll need some assistance," he said. Hoss jumped up to fill the canteens.

After Hoss returned with the water, they set about helping the doctor. "That bullet needs to come out. Gentlemen, I'll need you to hold him still for me to remove it, I'll handle everything else." Both Cartwrights nodded grimly, Hoss positioning himself on Adam's right, Joe settling by Adam's head. Tools ready, the doctor carefully removed the makeshift bandages, revealing the ugly red, swollen hole in Adam's side. Hoss gulped and Joe winced, but neither moved as the medical man reached for a scalpel. It took both of them to hold Adam still as the doctor probed for the bullet. Joe murmured quiet words of comfort as the doctor worked, absently rubbing Adam's shoulder.

* * *

Try as he might, Adam could not pull himself out from under the collapsed wood. The strong wind had toppled the fence pole on top of him, and the barbed wire dug unmercifully into his wounded side. Taking a short breath, Adam again tried to manuever himself free, but his arms would not move. White hot agony suddenly lanced through his left side, leaving him gasping shallowly.

* * *

Tears threatened to spill down Hoss's face with Adam's quiet whimper when the bullet was finally removed, and Joe heaved an audible sigh of relief. Adam quieted considerably as Fletcher began cleansing and stitching up the wound.

At that moment, Colonel Wilcox shouted for Johnson to give himself up. Refusing to admit defeat, Johnson turned the rifle towards the Cartwrights. Hoss immediately jumped up and slowly advanced towards the man, Joe right behind, nervously hoping his older brother wouldn't be shot as well. Hoss simply took the captain's gun then physcially marched him out to the waiting Colonel, while Joe turned back to help Doctor Fletcher.

* * *

Unable to open his eyes, Adam tried to assess where he was. No longer was his body on fire, and the pain had slightly subsided to a dull throb. Hands were supporting him, a strange voice sounded nearby, then Joe's voice spoke near his ear.

Crouching next to his oldest brother, Joe had slid an arm under Adam's shoulders, holding him steady while the doctor wrapped clean bandages around Adam's torso. He looked at Adam's face and saw his eyes trying to open.

"Adam? Adam, can you hear me?" Joe asked quietly.

A few moments later, Adam slowly opened his eyes. "Joe?" he said in a breathy whisper.

Joe smiled in relief. "Adam, you're all right. Doctor Fletcher took the bullet out. We're going to get you home."

Adam's brow furrowed slightly as he slowly processed the information Joe had given him. "Water?" he rasped.

Immediately a canteen was at his lips and he drank thirstily, then relaxed back into Joe's arms. Joe gently laid Adam back down. "Get some rest, Adam," Joe said, watching Adam's eyes close. He was relieved to see his brother's face smooth out and for the first time since he was shot, Adam looked almost comfortable.

Hoss returned shortly, then just as Fletcher finished tying off the bandage, Ben and Wilcox approached, followed closely by Cochise.

"Well, Doctor, how is he?" the Colonel asked as Ben crouched next to Adam.

"I can pull him through sir," Doctor Fletcher replied, smiling.

"Good. You'll stay with him as long as is necessary." Ben quickly got to his feet and thanked the army man and bid Cochise farewell. After returning their horses, Cochise left, and Ben quickly sent his youngest to return with a buckboard that would take Adam home.

* * *

Some time had passed, although exactly how much, Adam couldn't be sure. Things were a blur. Incessant jostling coinciding with the jingle of harnesses, the ache in his side deepening with each bump of the road. Someone's muffled voice, that had to be Hoss if the strong arms carrying him were anything to go by. The reassuring comfort of Adam's own bed.

Night must have happened at some point, the glow of the lamp lending limited visibility to the room. Then he had found himself wandering in the desert again, hot, dusty, dry, his throat parched and almost unable to swallow.


	3. Chapter 3

Ben's fears for his eldest increased as nearly two days passed without improvement. Adam was still unconscious with a fever, at times delirious. Finally, Dr. Fletcher turned towards Ben after his morning check on Adam.

"Mr. Cartwright, there is an infection in the wound. Look here," he said, gently lifting the bandages. The skin around Adam's wound was reddened, streaks radiating outward like a grotesque wagon wheel, and yellowish drainage oozed from the sutures. Ben cringed inwardly.

"What do we need to do?" Ben asked, although he was certain of the answer.

"I'll have to operate again, Mr. Cartwright," the doctor replied. "Whatever is causing the infection must be removed."

"I understand," Ben nodded. Striding to the door, he called for Joe and Hoss, explaining the situation. Quickly, they set about assisting the doctor to, yet again, operate on Adam.

* * *

Adam ran towards the rocks, but was unable to reach safety in time. The bull charged again, Adam jumping out of the way narrowly avoiding the horns. Knocked to the ground, he scrambled to his feet, again trying to clamber up. The sharp horn tore through his side as the bull caught and tossed him high in the air, then he landed with a dull thud on the rocks. Curling on his uninjured side, Adam tried to catch his breath while the bull continued to strike at the rocks, trying to reach him.

* * *

It was mere minutes before Doctor Fletcher found the remaining bullet fragment. Ben sent up a prayer of thanks. "It's over, Adam," he murmured soothingly. "Rest, son."

Fletcher thoroughly cleansed and restitched the wound, applying clean bandages. Hoss and Joe assisted the doctor in cleaning up his supplies, then quietly left the room to allow their father time to sit with Adam.

Night passed agonizingly slow. Ben, refusing to move from his son's side, kept a constant vigil while Hoss and Joe checked in at regular intervals.

Dawn was breaking when Joe entered the room to find his father dozing in the chair and Adam stirring. Eagerly he crossed the room to his brother's bed just as Adam opened his eyes.

"Adam?" Joe asked quietly.

Adam blinked, trying to clear the blur in his vision. Slowly he turned his head to see Joe perched on the edge of the bed. Joe leaned forward with a glass of water. "Here Adam," he said, helping him drink.

Surprised by how much effort a simple thing took, Adam lay back breathing shallowly. Catching his breath he asked, "What happened?"

"I don't know how much you remember," Joe started. "After Dr. Fletcher removed the bullet, we brought you home. He had to operate again yesterday to remove a fragment. This is the first time you've actually spoken."

Adam's brow furrowed slightly. "How long?"

"Three days," Joe replied.

Just then, Pa awoke with a start. Looking immediately towards his son, he was surprised to see him awake and Joe sitting on the edge of the bed. "Adam!" Ben said, standing to lay a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "How do you feel, son?"

"Sore," Adam said quietly. Ben's grip tightened momentarily, his eyes bright and shining.

"You're all right, boy," Ben said as Adam smiled at him.

Doctor Fletcher came in then, insisting on checking the wound, as well as the overall health of his patient. Minutes later he turned to Ben.

"Mr. Cartwright, there's no trace of fever that I can find. His wound appears to be healing well, no signs of infection there." Fletcher smiled at Ben's sigh of relief. "I do believe your son will be just fine, sir."

Ben clapped his youngest on the shoulder. "Did you hear that?!"

"Hear what? What's all the talking in here, Adam needs his rest," Hoss grumped, entering the room. Upon seeing Adam awake, he grinned. "Did you all go and wake him up?"

"Hoss, Adam's going to be just fine!" Ben told his middle son.

Hoss stepped up to the bed. "That's fine, real fine!" Hoss said, leaning forward to lay a comforting hand on Adam's shoulder. "You'll be up riding before you know it, older brother."

* * *

Doctor Fletcher returned to the fort the next day. Having left strict instructions for his patient's care, the medical man felt confident his patient was out of the woods and headed to a full recovery.

Adam continued to improve each day. Much of the time he was sleeping, a deep, peaceful sleep, no longer plagued by nightmares of the desert. Each time he woke, one of his family or Hop Sing was present. It was another day before Adam was able to sit up in bed, and almost a week before he was able to stand with assistance.

Nearly three weeks after the initial incident, Joe and Hoss were supporting Adam on his first trek downstairs.

"Easy now, just take it easy," Joe cautioned, one arm firmly around Adam's waist. "One step at a time."

"He can't very well take more than one at a time, now can he Joe?" Hoss teased, supporting Adam's back.

"You two act like I've never walked down a set of stairs before," Adam grinned good-naturedly. Pausing at the landing, he rested for a moment before continuing down the second half of the stairs.

Ben's heart swelled as he watched his two younger sons carefully help Adam down the stairs. He was so very thankful to have his eldest back, and felt blessed, even privileged, to have these compassionate, devoted young men to call his sons.

Gently lowering Adam into his favorite blue armchair, Hoss pushed it closer towards the hearth while Joe retrieved a heavy blanket to lay across Adam's lap. Ben approached, rubbing his hands together. "Well, young man, how are you feeling today?" he asked, sitting on the hearth.

"Just fine, Pa," Adam replied. "But it might be advantageous to teach Joe here how to properly empty a wash basin."

Joe's ears turned bright red. "It was an accident," he mumbled. "I tripped over the rug."

"Yep, you sure did. Gave Adam and me a bath in one shot, that's how come it took us so long to get down here," Hoss chuckled. "Why can't you aim like that at branding time, little brother?"

Adam laughed quietly with one hand resting on his injured side. It was music to Ben's ears to hear his son's laughter, something he thought he might never hear again. Tears stung his eyes, and he quickly rose to cross the room and picked up the decanter, pouring four glasses of brandy. Passing one to each of his sons, Ben raised his glass.

"A toast, to family," Ben said.

Each raised their glass. "To family," they chorused.

Adam smiled, relaxing back in the chair. Though it was going to be a longer road to complete recovery, he knew he wasn't doing it alone. And that, perhaps, was the best medicine of all.


End file.
